


Five Times Leman Got Pretend-Drunk And Went To Find Constantin

by Endriya



Series: What It Means To Me [2]
Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors, Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: 5+1 Things, Drunk Leman Russ, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26676883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endriya/pseuds/Endriya
Summary: And one time he got really drunk and Constantin went to find him.
Relationships: Leman Russ/Constantin Valdor
Series: What It Means To Me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931554
Kudos: 19





	Five Times Leman Got Pretend-Drunk And Went To Find Constantin

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something I wrote set in the universe of my fic 'What It Means To Me', which I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> As is becoming usual, this fic was proof-read for me by [DAZzle_10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DAZzle_10/pseuds/DAZzle_10), so thanks to them.

Leman Russ was drunk. Not really drunk — it took a lot for him to get really drunk, more than he was often inclined to drink. But he was tipsy at least, and of the firm opinion that there was no point in drinking if you weren't going to act drunk, whether or not you actually were.  
Besides enjoying himself, he had one immediate goal, and that was to find his mate. His love. His Constantin. And as luck would have it, the first place he tried — the Custodian's bedroom — just so happened to be where Valdor was.  
But he was asleep.  
Russ stopped and stared forlornly through the door for several long minutes, swaying slightly, hoping that Constantin would wake, or at least stir enough to sleepily beckon Russ to join him.  
He didn't. He slept. His gorgeous face remained unmarred by any sign of wakefulness, his breathing slow and even, his voice quiet rather than greeting the primarch in his velvet-soft tones.  
Frowning in disappointment, Russ decided to try again later. 

"Hello, my love," Russ murmured, having wobbled his way around the desk to stand behind his mate with his hands on the Custodian's shoulders, bent down so he could kiss Constantin's neck and jaw as he did so.  
His lips were sloppy but effective, sucking small red marks into Valdor's perfect skin, even as Constantin was diligently, steadfastly focussing on the work before him instead of his mate.  
Constantin shifted beneath his touch, rolling his shoulders slightly as if to shrug Russ off. Russ hugged him instead, forearms overlapping around his mate's neck, his chin resting on one of Constantin's muscular shoulders.  
"Leman," he sighed, not in the peaceful, I'm-glad-you're-here-with-me sort of way that Russ wanted him to sigh, but more in the exasperated, I'm-trying-to-work-so-get-off-me-you-drunk-fool sort of way.  
You couldn't have everything, Russ supposed. 

Constantin was reading when Russ plonked himself down beside him, half-full bottle sloshing in one hand, but the Custodian offered him a small smile, which made Russ's hearts light up like a pair of candelabras, illuminating his face in a thrilled grin.  
"Do you want some mjød?" Russ asked a few seconds after Constantin had returned to his reading, growing bored of being ignored.  
"This is a library," Constantin reminded him.  
"So?"  
"You may not drink in the library."  
Russ shrugged, tipped his head back and drank anyway, gurgling loudly and wiping his chin of the spillage as it threatened to drip down onto his clothes. An archivist appeared at the end of the row, saw who was sitting there, and abruptly decided to leave.  
"You sure you don't want any?"  
Sighing, Constantin closed his book and stood, giving Russ a stern look. He grabbed Russ's wrist.  
"Come on."  
He marched out of the library with Russ in tow. 

"Where's Constantin?" Russ mumbled, purposefully stumbling into the Custodian who had had the misfortune of being found by him.  
"Not here," the Custodian replied tersely as Russ grabbed his shoulder to steady himself, nearly pushing the man off his feet.  
"Well, where is he then?"  
The Custodian was ignoring him now, the stern faceplate of his helm locked straight ahead and his vox quiet.  
"I'm looking for him," Russ tried again.  
Silence.  
Russ bumped gently into him again in an overacted attempt to read his name plate.  
"Con-foo— Con-few-see— How are you pronouncing that?"  
He was ignored again.  
Ah, well, Russ thought. The Custodian did look very busy staring at the opposite side of the corridor, so perhaps he shouldn't bother him anymore.  
"If you do see Constantin, tell him I love him," he told the golden figure as he stumbled off down the hallway. 

Constantin was patrolling the gardens when Russ found him, unarmoured but not unarmed, his robes not too tight, but not so loose that they prevented the primarch from admiring the flawless shape of his form. Russ swayed towards him and Constantin turned at his approach.  
"Hello, Leman," he said, his voice the smoothest balm in all of the galaxy.  
He gave Russ a perceiving look, even as the Wolf King took his last few stumbling steps towards his love.  
"Let's go for a walk together," Russ slurred, fumbling to grab his mate's hand to tug him through the garden.  
"Only if you'll walk straight," Constantin challenged, adjusting his hand within Russ's to a more comfortable position.  
The man was no fun at all.  
"Fine," Russ mumbled, straightening up his gait but refusing to give up the fun entirely.  
He grasped Constantin's arm, stared at his statuesque face, and blamed it on what alcohol he had drunk when he stumbled on a stone he hadn't seen. 

The last thing Leman Russ truly remembered was staggering down a hallway on the western side of the palace, bouncing off the walls as he crashed into each side in turn and was sent stumbling towards the other. He had the vague recollection of trying to decide whether he should find a nice statue to throw up behind or just allow his superhuman biology to deal with it all, and brief impressions of being lifted from the ground to his feet, of leaning on someone or something, of his favourite smell in the whole wide world and of falling into that scent, down and down and down.  
Now, he was lying encompassed in a lesser version of the fragrance as he clawed his way back up to reality and immediately wished he hadn't. The world had been so much better when all he had known was darkness, rest, and the smell of Constantin. Now, it hurt. A lot. An awful lot.  
Leman Russ was hungover.  
He groaned as he scanned the familiar room, taking in its boring bookshelf, its boring walls, its boring wardrobe, all evidential of its boring occupant, who Russ loved so very much. He looked blearily to his immediate surroundings and blinked as he noticed the change to the normal order of the room. There was a note on the bedside table next to a glass of clear water.  
_You're drunk,_ the note read.  
Leman snorted through his hangover; as if that were not obvious. _I've left you water. You can use the bathroom if you wish, but try not to get hair everywhere. You can stay until noon._  
The note seemed to pause then, hesitating, a large blot of ink indicating that Constantin had agonised over whether he should write what he did next.  
_I love you._  
There it was, written plainly in Constantin's cursive script, making every single throbbing bit of this pain worth it: every sticky itch of his dry mouth, every ache of his muscles and stabbing twist of too-bright light in his eyes.  
Russ grasped the note in both hands and held it to his chest, imaging somehow that he could feel the warmth of its composer.  
He smiled.


End file.
